


legends

by diwata



Series: i follow rivers [5]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Blank Period, Canon Compliant, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:35:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23284105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diwata/pseuds/diwata
Summary: Sasuke practices filial piety.Some legends were made from beasts and bloodshed, but Sakura was made from child’s play, jasmine tea, and love and hope; good things, not lesser ones.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke
Series: i follow rivers [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596583
Comments: 14
Kudos: 121





	legends

**Author's Note:**

> For Sakura’s birthday on the 28th, a little SS!travel drabble.

The room is still dark when he wakes, throwing his legs over the side of the bed in one fluid motion. As Sasuke rises to pack the remainder of his belongings, he hears his travel companion’s muffled protests. “If it’s raining, can’t we stay in?” she asks, face buried in a goose feather pillow.

The wooden floor creaks beneath his feet as he walks up to the pack of shuriken and kunai that had been laid out to dry the evening before. “If we leave now, we can make it to Ame by sunset,” Sasuke says quietly, kneeling down to collect the objects.

“But,” comes the uncharacteristic objection, “we’re two days ahead of schedule, and there might be a flash flood. The flood will slow us down, surely, and…” Sasuke watches her raise her head, just to yawn, before sinking face-first into the pillow.

Her antics remind him of their genin days, where Naruto and Sasuke would play mushi-ken to see who had the misfortune of waking their third teammate up; not of Haruno Sakura, disciple of the Fifth, who defeated an Akatsuki member at fifteen. And not that Sakura is to blame at all, either — they did have a habit of making each other feel twelve again. That’s why he only watches her out of the corners of his eyes, why he summons Susanoo for mundane things, like hanging their laundry. He’s never been good with feelings, even less experienced with romantic ones, but Sasuke has always been good at making a show out of things.

“And?”

“And it’s my birthday,” says Sakura, matter-of-fact. 

He pauses at the foot of the bed frame, observing the rise and fall of her back with something in his mouth that tastes like guilt. Sasuke doesn’t keep track of dates on his travels, measuring time only by the elapsed days from Point A to Point B. He seldom remembers his own birthday; he hadn’t even celebrated his twentieth birthday, his coming-of-age. But he should have, at least, remembered his teammate’s birthday, his teammate who, despite all he had done, had elected to leave her post at the hospital to follow him on his journey. And for what? Sasuke had asked her along, and it was as if nothing had changed. They kept their respectful distance on their sides of the bed. Sometimes, their hands would brush, or she’d stand so close that the weight of her growing hair rested on his shoulder. “Congratulations on your birth—” he begins a half-formed apology.

“It means I’m older than you and you should respect the wishes of your elders, Sasuke-kun,” she presses onward, unbothered. Her tone is alert; cutting, even.

Sasuke lets out a huff of breath, caught between amusement and relief. “Is that so, Sakura-san?” The honorific is foreign and uncomfortable on his tongue, and he frowns at its weight, even in jest. Sakura- _san_ is sprawled across the mattress on her belly, arms folded beneath the pillow her face has found respite in. Sasuke admires the red and white insignia on her back, the black fabric that hangs off her shoulders and bunches around her waist. “That’s a nice shirt,” he says, setting his bag back down on the ground.

“It is,” Sakura agrees drowsily, turning her head so he can see the side of her face. “Not mine, though,” she mumbles. The light of dawn filters through the spaces between the blinds, scattering across the white blanket and the pink strands of the kunoichi’s hair.

The mattress sinks under his weight as he climbs back into bed. Sakura hums happily as he rests on his side, looking over her form with his elbow propped. “It’s a gift,” Sasuke tells her.

Sakura opens a single viridian eye to peek up at him from behind a curtain of hair. Sasuke returns her gaze patiently. She rolls on her side to face him fully, her exposed shoulder looking unbearably soft. She stretches her arm towards him and he shifts closer to her, ever so slightly. Sakura raises her hand to his face with familiarity. Anticipating the affectionate pressure to his forehead, Sasuke closes his eyes. After moments pass without contact, he opens them again.

She brandishes a closed fist but for her pinky finger, whose slackened form points upward. She hums happily again, smiling to herself as she watches his expression change in realization. “Slug beats snake,” Sakura proclaims, content heavy in her peaceful tone.

Sasuke clicks his tongue in annoyance. He calculates his next move before extending his arm to reach around her back. “You’re welcome,” he says, too smug at the shock written on her face to be mortified by their unprecedented close proximity.

His companion rests her open palms against his chest. “You’re welcome, Sakura- _san_ ,” she corrects, leaning in. Sasuke can count the freckles on her cheekbones, the dark red-pink of each eyelash. Understanding, he closes his eyes and finally feels the soft pressure of her lips against his. When they look at each other after the novel touch, he smiles at her. “Slug beats snake,” Sakura repeats, but this time her pinky, with the rest of her fingers, are curled against his collarbone.

“Slug beats snake,” Sasuke echoes absentmindedly. He remembers losing those matches to Naruto, again and again, but not truly being bothered by it, because Sakura’s eyes were clear in the morning, and sometimes, she’d make him tea over the campfire if she was in a good mood. Some legends were made from beasts and bloodshed, but Sakura was made from child’s play, jasmine tea, and love and hope; good things, not lesser ones.

Sasuke traces the outline of his family crest on her back and decides that Ame can wait another day.

**Author's Note:**

> Mushi-ken is the rock-paper-scissors type game that the concept of the Sannin is based on. It goes that snake eats frog, frog eats slug, and slug poisons snake. And yes, this is my head canon of their first (actual) kiss. I hope you enjoyed, and happy early birthday to our girl, of course!


End file.
